Profundis Ad Astra
by Shadowsplosion
Summary: "From the depths to the stars." Six or more nerds being nerds and banding together in a planet that's a whole less safe than you'd imagine.
1. Chapter 1

Far from the city, a young woman hunches over in a river, watching and waiting. Her hair is white and wild, and she wears little in the way of clothing - scraps of old and tattered rags that might have once been a tank top and underwear. A pair of ragged jeans hangs on a branch nearby.

She is alone.

The canopy above her head is thick enough to block the majority of the sunlight, though beams still find their way through cracks and holes to the river's surface. I won't go back. I won't. Her mind feels as fuzzy as the sun does on her nose, and she sniffs, recognising the smells of damp and fungi.

The woman snaps her head up when the trees rustle, but it's just a bird flying away, undisturbed by the woman observing it. She chooses not to pursue it; her eyes are on the water, and she steps forward. The current rushes against her thin legs. To her thighs, now, the water rises and rushes against her. She isn't budging an inch, but her steps are careful and practiced.

She has done this before, but the slightest mistake would wash her - and her chance for a meal - away entirely. On a full stomach, this would be little issue. Her powers would be in full functionality and capturing fish would be easy. She wouldn't go for a fish, but deer or rabbit.

This is not the case at the moment. It's precarious; it's dangerous when she's as hungry as this. But it is one of the reliable ways of obtaining food she has experienced as far in the wild as she is. Deer are scarce around here, and though rabbits make a nice meal, the river is closer.

The young woman's stomach rumbles, growls angrily in the otherwise peaceful forest, and she wills for it to quieten. There are no fish here now, but she waits. They will come. She will eat. And then she will move on.

Her eyes are on the water, and she focuses on being still, standing in wait. Her breathing is slow, slow enough to seem as if she isn't alive, that she isn't the predator that she is. Watching, waiting. She has to be quiet and still; so still that the fish might mistake her as a part of the river.

The shadows are holding her firm in the water, to the rocks. She isn't afraid. She has no room for that, because this is her doing. This is her will. To fail is not an option.

Rushing water, the faint sound of birds wings. Footsteps - not her own. She hears the living creatures, though they are distant. They're unlikely to see her, so she pays them little mind. Hunger wins over common sense and caution for the time being.

Instead, she focuses on the water around her - and the fish starting to swim downstream. It glides close, unaware until it seals its own fate. Her hand slices through the water and clasps around it in a vice grip, and she yanks it out, wasting no time in shooting out of the water as well. Shadows unfurl and she lands on her feet, legs bent.

The fish squirms in her hand, drowning on the oxygen, but the woman wastes no time in returning to the bank. Success. Her shadows are beginning to melt back to their original positions, latching and unlatching with nothing but whispers and extra rustles in the leaves above.

She's careful in gutting her meal with her shadow claws first - fish guts aren't lucky - and then lets the shadows retreat back into her hands. Eat. Conserve energy. Outlast the pursuers. Maybe they're not on her trail now, so she sets her eyes on the fish.

Food. She wouldn't go hungry tonight. She looks over her shoulder, looks ahead. It's still. Quiet. Maybe she's wrong. Maybe they've started to catch up. If that's the case, she can't stay here. She knows this. But she's hungry.

She feels the eyes on her, first, the hairs on her neck rising. Someone here. Run. Run.

She's in motion instantly, moving when the first bullet fires. The tree behind her scatters splinters as the metal projectiles fly. What's important is that it misses her by an arm's width, allowing her those few milliseconds to start running. She leaves her jeans behind to flee into the trees, dodging a second flurry of noise. The man curses, reloads, and crashes after her through the undergrowth.

"C'mere, you zombie bitch!"

She shrieks in response, wordless and angry. She bats low hanging branches out of the way, and her wet feet aren't getting the ideal grip on the soil and grass beneath her. The woman slips, though she barely regains her balance.

She doesn't understand, her legs are starting to burn as she sprints furiously. Trying to get away like this proves difficult. There is no charted path she takes, and zigzagging through the trees isn't going to work forever.

And as she thinks this, she hooks her foot through a tree root, thudding to the floor with enough force to smash her head into the floor. She's still dazed, still shaking off the fuzziness in her head when he catches up to her not even ten seconds later, red eyes wide and gruesome mouth snarling.

The woman meets with the nasty end of a blasting weapon, black barrel pointing at her. The smoke coils upward in not-quite circles. Gun. She growls and tries to right herself, trying to shoot back up and withdraw her claws when -

BANG.

She isn't as lucky this time. The pain is sudden, blossoming in the back of her shoulder, and the force knocks her back to the floor with a resounding crack. She screams again, primal and inhuman. It hurts it hurts it hurts. She drops the remains of the fish.

Blood is escaping, but the man advances on her, kicking her back to the floor. Pinning her down with one booted foot. She looks to the side, at the blood pooling on the grass in front of her face. At the monster holding her down. She sees him admire his handiwork, staring with a half smile, crooked and yellow. The damp red circle spilling blood into the open air and the hot metal lodged in torn skin and tissue and muscle.

She's shaking, in pain and anger and maybe the stirring of fear, and the man stares. Drinks the vision of her in like a cold beverage in the middle of a desert before he looks at the faded word on her arm like a new trophy.

"Revenant," He reads, echoes from what he sees, and smiles, "So you really are a zombie, then. Can't say I'm disappointed."

She doesn't reply, but she listens with her teeth bared. If he wasn't as cautious, she would have pushed him over and attacked by this point. Teeth to the jugular. She'll remember his face. Dark skin and dreadlocks pulled away from his face, eyes as dark as war and chiselled features.

Hatred clenches her lungs. If it's the pain, she can't tell, but she lets him keep on talking while the gears in her head turn. The man points the gun at her face as he continues. Sweat covers the handle. Used.

"I'll take you back with me, you know, and you won't be getting out this time."

Monster of a man.

 **»»-¤-««**

"Three years since your funeral, huh."

Victor's in his room again, holding a framed photo. It's always sudden in his mind. Busy life aside, he always remembers, but it isn't until he rolls off of his charging table to his calendar when he realizes it this time.

In the photo, he and his best friend stand side by side at the beach. Already, Victor's starting to grow taller than her, and his arm's slung around her heavily freckled shoulder. They were nine at the time. It was a few months before her tenth birthday, and they both look as happy as they could be. Andrea's grin is genuine and gap-toothed. She'd lost a tooth a few days before hand, one of her front teeth, and it had added to her childish charm.

His best friend never did have a precise time of death. She had died months before they found her body. It was only the cast on the arm that had identified her. It had rotted away, had slashes in several places, but it was unmistakeably hers because of the messages covering it.

He'd never seen her body – his parents wouldn't allow it. He'd been thirteen at the time, young in their eyes, and too young to see something like that. After the funeral, he goes home and...

He pushes it aside to start sorting through cleaning products. He shares the bathroom with three others; so there's face masks, hair gel, tic tacs - even a handful of disposable razors. He shifts these to the side. This is his bathroom, for crying out loud.

He wonders how Andy would have reacted to his new... enhancements. She had said he'd suit any hair style, and he runs his finger through the stubble starting to grow. He'll need to shave it off again. It doesn't look great versus the robotic side of his head. Electric razor – there it is. He sets to work neatening himself up, and the hair goes first.

Chrome Dome. Beast Boy hadn't been the first to call him that – it had been Andrea when he'd gotten his head shaved for the first time at six. She'd been chatting away happily to him from the bathroom counter, little legs bouncing against the white wood, and over ten years later, Beast Boy takes her place in his apartment. Neither the six-year-old Andrea nor teenaged Beast Boy had legs long enough to hit the floor from their perches.

Andrea had said it because it rhymed, and BB had taken the meaning... literally, considering that half of Victor's head was now metal. Which is precisely why Cyborg takes the 'new nickname' in stride, familiar with it before it leaves his teammate's lips, and fires back a remark; about him being a grass stain. Both memories were good ones, and he only realizes he's flashing a smile when he catches himself in the mirror.

»»-¤-««

The members of their unnamed team have yet to set themselves up in Victor's apartment. There's only the four of them - Beast Boy, Raven, Robin, and Cyborg - at the minute, anyway. Raven has a few basic things here and there, claiming that moving her books here would be a disaster. If she had as many as Cyborg was thinking, there wouldn't be enough room for anyone to enter in the first place.

Raven has her own place on the other side of the city. To say Robin lived there as well wasn't entirely accurate, either. Beast Boy's had enough half scares waking up to Robin suddenly climbing through the window, and Cyborg wonders how much their green team mate's heart can take. Beast Boy had unsubtly moved in, claiming one of Cyborg's guest beds as his own. Not that anyone could see it under his clothes.

This morning, Cyborg can't find Robin. He simply isn't anywhere to be seen - likely training somewhere in the city - and Beast Boy is still in bed. Raven, on the other hand, is already awake when Cyborg leaves his bedroom. She barely acknowledges him from the kitchen bar as he passes, only nods and returns to her tea, but for Cyborg it's about as much as he'd expect from her. She isn't much of a talker.

He's fine with that. He knows Raven isn't a social butterfly, and he isn't planning on staying here for much longer today, anyway. He takes his breakfast burrito to the sofa to eat it, and then goes to pull on a hood and some pants. It's about as incognito as he can get right now, now that they're all out of prototype holo-rings. He just needs to see some open air without drawing in danger like a magnet.

"Don't let BB throw out my ribs," Cyborg says to Raven on his way out, with a half hearted wave. She just rolls her eyes in response as the door closes behind him, and her fingers trail over a singular paper rose.

The breeze is gentle on the human side of Victor's face, and he pulls up his hood. Time to get busy.

 **»»-¤-««**

She won't go back, not while she exists. Not like this, not like this. Not at all.

She lets the power surge back into her. What little fish she had eaten wasn't helping that much. It's all adrenaline - all that's powering her as she kicks out. It jolts her wound until she sees stars, but she channels as much force as she can from her own shadow.

They smash into his front with the force of a flying truck.

It's the last thing he expects, prideful in the wake of his supposedly successful capture. He's sent flying towards the tree. She doesn't let up, lets her shadows keep forcing him at the tree until- a sickening crack as his ribcage caves in.

Good. She breathes heavily, on her knees, and lets herself rise as his body falls. Her shoulder is hurting like a bitch, still gushing blood, and she shifts back. The bullet pings out of her shadow with an agonising pop, landing in the grass, and the blood escapes faster and freely. The front of her top is ruined now, red with blood and green from grass stains.

Bastard.

It turns out that removing the bullet is a bad, bad, bad idea. She shoves her hand over the gaping wound and promptly takes off the guy's pants with her free hand. He won't need them - he's a little dead at the minute, red leaking from his caved in chest, from his face - and she dons them for herself.

They're a little too baggy, but she pulls the cord. They'll have to do.

She shuffles back into the woods, vision dulling with every step she takes.


	2. Chapter 2

All she can taste is iron.

Revenant spits blood at the forest floor. There's a bristle of a touch to her senses - something odd. A kind of smell, but not really, coming from her nerves and trailing all of the way to her brain. She could sense it before, snaking from her kills, and now it drifts away.

Revenant doesn't recall this part of the forest. Maybe she'd wandered a little too far east, but these trees are new - no, not new. Unfamiliar. Her bare feet feel up the worn dirt path, and though the bleeding in her shoulder wound has dried up - faster than she remembers, faster - she feels every bit of torn flesh and the dizziness that follows. She kicks at a pebble in her way, sticking closer to the tree line as she advances.

It is painfully slow. Painfully silent. Her earlier scuffle has cleared off the majority of the animals in her area, and the blood she's lost is making her clumsy. This weakness... she dislikes it. A hundred feet on, her knees are starting to shake and there's a ringing in her ears. Just as she reaches the next tree, her legs give out from under her. She's drifting, too. The next moment, she's on her front, on the floor, with the pebble at the very edge of her vision.

This is a huge shame, considering she can sense someone nearby. Not the same man from before - smells too clean - but Revenant needs to get out of here quick. She knows the stranger could easily be working for the same people. She tries to get up, but all she can manage is dragging herself behind a tree.

Her body doesn't feel much like responding after that, and everything becomes dull. She can hear only her shallow breathing and- rustling. She tenses, pointed ears flickering up, though her hope for remaining free is fast escaping. No- no.

Footsteps in the grass. Fingers on her wrist. On her neck.

She's rolled on to her side, and the pain forces her to groan. So much for that plan, then. The next thing she knows, she's floating, and then- she's fading again.

 **»»-¤-««**

The sunlight is warm on her face. In the apartment, Raven is the only one awake. She sighs and puts her tea down. This particular reading had started fruitful - one of the tea leaves rose to the surface before Raven had time to take the first sip, and Raven didn't miss the early sign. Tasseomancy has long been practiced on Earth, through tea, coffee - any liquid that leaves dregs.

Once she finishes the tea, she picks it up in her left hand and swirls it three times, and then upends the cup onto her saucer to let the liquid drain. This time, the keyhole shape at the bottom warns of idle curiosity, but it's a little too late for Raven at this point. Such is life.

Raven crosses her legs after muting the television. The newswoman reporting about the weather mouths wordlessly, pointing at some place three miles to the east at a florescent orange sun. Tacky.

Keeping her emotions in check through meditation requires focus and dedication. For Raven, these two things tend to rely on a quiet corner, the lack of distractions, and three particular words.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

Some time into chanting, she feels herself lift into the air. She focuses on balancing her emotions, on pushing down her inner rage. The world dims and fades out of her focus, though she skirts at the edge of her mindscape.

There's a feeling of unease at the edges of her mind - not her own. Raven turns in her head. Where she had been expecting to see stars, everything is quiet and still. Unburied nightmares rise to the surface and Raven finds herself staring into two pairs of opening red eyes.

Pain.

Her back meets with the floor of Victor's apartment two seconds later, and Raven drinks what feels like an entire jug of herbal tea before her nerves pull themselves back together. That's enough meditation for now, she thinks.

She's about to settle down on the couch when her phone rings. She answers it - Robin and Cyorg are the only ones with her number, so she assumes it's one of them.

"I'm going to need a hand," Robin says, "Or two."

Business as usual. Robin sounds grim, though, so Raven pays attention.

"What's happening?"

"We've got a situation- injured female, late teens."

"And you can't take her to hospital because-"

"Just come here. Meet me at East Sedgehill Path."

Raven hangs up, walking to the door... and then vanishes into her soul self, teleporting away.

 **»»-¤-««**

Victor's apartment is opposite some pub that usually wasn't that much of a bother. Victor had only been in there twice, and both times it was to pay rent. Victor hadn't known the landlord too much, either, just that he lived close and he didn't ask questions about why he was always so covered up. He considers it a bonus.

Coincidentally, it turns out that the pub's landlord is also his landlord. Before Robin, Beast Boy, and Raven had moved in, Jason had also been one of the people that Victor was in regular contact with. Usually, it was just to discuss rent or questions about the property, but over the months the two had started talking about other things. Not enough for Victor to trust him with any of his secrets - but enough so that they weren't complete strangers.

It is only on his way back from his walk that Victor suddenly finds himself wandering into the place again. He shrugs, rolling along with the direction his feet are taking him to push open the door. The lack of a creak signifies Jason has finally gotten around to oiling the hinges, and Victor is greeted to the smells of alcohol and smoke.

As expected, it isn't particularly busy. At high noon, there aren't many people there to appreciate the atmosphere. A few people Victor recognises as regulars are having their lunch and there's a woman snoozing in one of the corner booths. Victor squeezes himself onto one of the vacant seats at the bar - onto a stool that just about supports his weight, torn as it was - and waits for his landlord to finish serving one of the other women.

"Didn't you just pay your rent?" Jason's voice is crisp. He comes up on the other side of the bar, and Victor shrugs.

"Well, yeah," Victor says, "Just paying a visit."

"You wake up before noon for once?" Jason smiles. "I'd nearly pegged you as some sort of nocturnal bird."

Victor snorts at the mental image. "Do I look like I have wings to you?"

Jason leans onto the bar, setting his elbows onto the wood. "I dunno, man, you could smuggle another human under there."

"I don't think I'd want to," Victor says with a laugh, met only with Jason's shrug.

The red haired woman walks to the booth behind Victor, nudging the snoozing blonde awake. Their voices are hushed, and Victor pays them no mind.

"Anyway, want a drink? Free on the house." Jason's already turning around to look at the pints, though Victor isn't so keen. Robin would freak out, definitely.

"Nah, I'm cool. Boss'd kill me if I turned up drunk."

Jason frowned. "How's that going, anyway? Last I heard he was being a bit..."

"Obsessive? Yeah. That's just him, though," Victor shrugs, "Doesn't matter that much."

Before the two can say any more, his phone starts ringing.

 **»»-¤-««**

Raven moves forward and crouches down in front of the woman. At some point before her arrival, Robin had rolled the woman onto her side and had gone about to try and stem the bleeding - but that had been it. The wound had dried.

Raven went to take her pulse, but Robin shook his head.

"She's alive, Raven."

"So you found her here... and she isn't dead?"

"Yes, and no. She's got a strong pulse and the wound isn't bleeding. Couldn't see a bullet."

Raven goes to say something else, and then she notices something else. The woman's ears are pointed, and on opening her mouth - pointed fangs. This wasn't a human. Not a demon, either - Raven couldn't sense that in her.

A flash goes off in her head. A blue sun. Purple planet. A spire to the skies.

Her hands wobble as she smoothes the woman's hair back. She's around their age - only young. Seventeen at most, Raven thinks. She understands now why taking her to hospital wouldn't be a good idea.

"Alecian," She whispers.

"What?" Robin queries, brow raised.

She shakes her head, raising her hands to the wound. The healing process is slow and Raven can only boost it a little bit as is. The wound closes slightly, but then reopens - the bleeding starts again, and Robin steps forward - Raven raises a hand, stemming the bleeding .

Not good.

"Call Victor," Raven says. In moments, the three of them have vanished back to the apartment.

»»-¤-««

Things are meaningless in this part of the void.

Or all parts of the void, Revenant figures. There's nothing here. No light, no time... everything turns out to be irrelevant here. Perhaps she's been here for minutes. Perhaps she's been here for years. The existence of non-existence.

Restlessly floating, Revenant learns that it lacks the anxieties her waking life did, too. No chains. No captors. No escape from the handful of memories she had left.

She's been shedding them steadily since her escape, has been pressing them into the back of her mind - but such things remain fruitless to complete, and the sediments stain the insides of her head. Vague. Not everything got locked up.

No amount of scrubbing at her mind can remove these, so she tries to block them out. Covers her stinging eyes with hands made inky in the dark. She thinks they're hands - she isn't keeping track of what's come with her, because none of it really exists here.

None of this stops the whispers.

The whispers. For all of the memories she has left, she's always had them. Only in her sleep, of undercurrents and the slightest touches to her ears. A gross feeling creeps up her stomach, trickling into her throat and through her nerves.

If she opens her eyes, will she be alive? She has to be - she's dreaming. But where would she be? In the forest? Back in the cell? Maybe she shouldn't wake up at all.

 **»»-¤-««**

"How is she?"

Raven looks up as Robin steps into the room. Raven can hear Beast Boy complaining - Robin's finally gotten him out of bed.

Her eyes land on the female on the bed. Her chest is rising and falling, and she's done all she can to heal the wounds on her body, though the thinness is concerning. Raven could count ribs - that wasn't healthy.

"Healing. Cyborg's stitched her up," She says, eventually, though it's a lot more complicated than that.

Robin picks up on her shortness and crosses his arms. They share a look, but her eyes flicker up to the door when Beast Boy walks past.

"You said something about Alecians," Robin leans against the wall, "A kind of species?"

"There isn't a lot of information on them," Raven says, "Mostly because they were reclusive."

"So a lot like you, then," Beast Boy remarks from the bathroom, but goes ignored. Raven looks pensive for a moment, and then touches the white haired girl's wrist.

"Her race heals fast, it's a part of their blood, but..."

"... But?"

"She's a little far from home. Her planet hasn't been seen in years."

Robin frowns.

"Destroyed?"

"I don't know, Robin. The planet-"

 **FWOOM.**

There's a loud noise outside - something crashes with force into the ground a few blocks away. The windows in the apartment crack. There's a frustrated yell from Cyborg in the living room.

"No time for that," Robin exclaims, "Hurry up and let's go, Beast Boy!"

Raven goes to stand up as well, but Robin fixes her with a gaze.

"Can you stay here? She might wake up."

Raven sighs, pulling up her hood.

"Fine."


	3. Chapter 3

There's a large hole sitting where a section of the road used to be. Green smoke billows upwards, rising into the night. Faintly, Robin can pick out the remains of what looks like a small _spaceship_. There are purple wires hanging and all sorts of motherboards that Robin hasn't seen before, knows Cyborg would love to investigate, but in the next moment his attentions are already on the who.

Who might be inside, who was the cause, if there's any survivors and if they're a threat. Robin considers all of this as he pushes his way through the going crowd, hand hovering at his belt and looking down into the crater. The smoke's too thick.

Behind him, Cyborg is shouldering his way through, and Beast Boy circles overhead as some kind of bird. It's a bad crash site. The metal vehicle is badly damaged, and Cyborg expresses his doubts it'll be salvageable considering how it seems to have nearly bent itself in half. Several of the cars have stopped, the onlookers gathering around the crater for a better look. A dog barks.

Cyborg coughs twice, stepping on what might have once been part of the hatch. The smoke is rancid, kind of like when someone leaves the oven on with a bowl of popcorn and pork inside for four days, and there's a gag up above. _Now is not the time to stop flying, BB_ , Cyborg thinks. That's a good twenty to twenty five feet drop.

"That's enough," Robin starts exclaiming when two teenagers debate about going down to check it out - "It's dangerous down there."

But before he can say anything else, and before the teenagers can argue, the smoke dissipates, and he sees the silhouette of a teenage girl come into view. Red hair, metal, orange skin.

"Slopforn ivortmat!"

The redhead slides down one of the broken slabs of concrete and advances towards the crowd, and that motion alone scatters the crowd father than it had gathered. The civilians flee the scene, screaming. The new arrival holds the strange metal restraining her hands to her like a weapon, shouting words that none of them can understand. Blue stains her side, stains one of her arms, and already there's screaming. If it's blood, it isn't hers. The crowd starts thinning, humans running left and right.

Is she a criminal? Cyborg cracks his knuckles and Robin narrows his eyes. There's a possibility. This isn't their first, but it's definitely the first time one's crashed into the street like that.

Even though most of the crowd is escaping, one man - one very confused man - stays in sight as the red haired woman advances. He steps back, first, on wobbling legs - there's a camera in his hand. He nervously brings it to himself, but-

 ** _FLASH!_**

The woman recoils, eyes squeezed shut, and then the situation descends into chaos. The alien's screaming is painful, and Cyborg runs in to pull the guy out of the way before the cuffs can go swinging at their heads. Readying herself again, the woman lashes out, but before she can get any closer Robin sends one of his birdarangs into the fray. It catches her in the side of her face, causing her to falter for a second before turning on him. It's all of the hesitation he needs. Before she has time to react, he closes the distance to catch her in the side of the face with a fist. She stumbles, angry eyes turning to the boy wonder.

"Who are you?" Robin inquires, one hand to his belt. She yells something indecipherable in return and jumps towards him, cuffs at the ready.

The first attack misses Robin by inches, and he notes two things - she isn't used to the weight of the metal, and that she could have easily have caved his head in had he been any slower. Still, it's a heck of a shot - in failing to hit him, the cuffs goes through a car windshield instead. Glass scatters everywhere and there's a loud screech from the car - and from the alien.

She's swinging every which way, an unpredictable ball of energy and rage, and Robin finds himself backing up more as they grow faster. It wouldn't do to get his ribs smashed in for not being vigilant enough.

"Slopforn! Ond gudshik zerrole!" She yells, swings at him again, but this time Robin realises she's growing more desperate. He takes advantage of this, slipping through the attacks before they can land. She's about to charge forwards again when Beast Boy rams her in the side, sending the two flying. The cuffed alien hits a lamppost back first, bending the metal entirely in half, and for a moment... Robin thinks she's downed.

She proves him wrong by jumping back up to kick a car at them. Cyborg jumps in the way, catching the car like a bag of groceries, and then throws it back. Another explosion - the car hits the wall, not the girl. She's faster than her strength signifies, and she's quickly growing outnumbered at this point, but she's holding her ground surprisingly well.

The three of them exchange blows with the alien girl until Cyborg slams his fist down to the middle of the shackles, and then follows up to a second punch that sends her into one of the cars. But again, she straightens up, no worse for wear... and smirks, cricking her neck. Something heavy hits the floor. The outer casing of her cuffs. Under them, she's still somewhat restrained, but now her hands are free.

This, apparently, is a very good thing for the alien, which becomes clear to the rest of them when her hands start to glow the neon green that her eyes were. She extends her hands.

"Oh, that's not-" Cyborg starts, but he's cut off as the first of the energy blasts hits him directly in the chest.

He's thrown against the overturned bus, grunting in surprise more than pain.

"Go! Go!"

Cyborg scrabbles up and they dive for cover, barely avoiding further hits as the barrage comes thick and fast. Fortunately, there's cover - the overturned bus provides the three with enough cover to not end up as Swiss cheese. Cyborg almost feels guilty about the vehicle getting wrecked instead.

"You alright?" Cyborg looks over. It's Beast Boy. Cyborg just grins.

"Takes more than that to down me, you know that, man."

The bolts of green light just keep coming. How can the redhead have this much juice? But still, as Cyborg's thinking this they move out to other directions - Robin has disappeared back to divert the alien's focus in the fifteen seconds they've been here, and it's unlikely that Robin's going to be stopping for any breaks soon at this rate.

Beast Boy goes to peek over the bus during a lull in the barrage. Suddenly, he's yanked back behind the bus. Above him, a burst of green light whizzes where his head had just been. He squeaked, drawing in closer to Cyborg.

"Wow, uh, close call, huh?" Beast Boy starts. Cyborg fixes him with a look, one hand on the green teen's shoulder. The green boy pulls himself out of the grip with an embarrassed thanks, face taking on an interesting hue.

"Girl's gonna wreck the whole city at this rate, BB. You gotta be more careful."

"We've got to do _something_!" Beast Boy exclaims back, then pulls himself to his feet, wiping a hand across his mouth.

"Getting your head blown up isn't the best idea," Robin cuts in from his side of the bus. He's working with some gadget, using it to look around the corner, and Beast Boy thinks it might have been a part of the bus a few minutes ago.

 **»»-¤-««**

Revenant wakes to light and, strangely enough, warmth. She's lying somewhere else than where she had fallen asleep, she becomes aware of in that not-quite smell. There's a sickening moment as something lifts from her head, and her dreams are forgotten. Something else goes with it. She can't find it in her to care about something she no longer knows anything about.

Her eyelids are static, and slithers of light seep out from underneath. Faint. Flickering with her breath. She's still weak, then - hasn't slept long. The grass and dirt that had been under her is replaced with… soft. Soft something.

A bed.

Her actual sense of smell tells her that she's lying somewhere clean. Artificially clean - not a meadow, no actual flowers. Chemicals. Something stronger on her shoulder. It stings in her nostrils and in her shoulder, but there's difference. Healing. Her flesh slowly pulls itself back together. It'll take a bit more time for this, she knows, as she is- wait.

Someone's here.

She hauls herself up, sudden and jarring. The room she finds herself in isn't familiar. The wallpaper behind her back isn't stone, the ceiling isn't dripping. No screams, now. Her fingers become claws that latch her on to the surface when the world spins, and she bares her fangs. Through the fog that's suddenly crept up on her, she can make out the face of a girl - grey skin, purple eyes, purple hair.

"—easy, now. I'm not here to hurt you."

The girl has a grey hand out towards her - slowly approaching. Revenant hunches forward with bent legs, readying herself to pounce.

"You've trapped me," Revenant shoots back, and she noticed the woman retract her hand a little. Perhaps she'd noticed her fangs. The last one hadn't.

"I'm not trying to trap you here," The woman says gently, and Revenant notices the woman look up - Revenant's shadow flickers against the wall, drawing upwards.

"You just plan to sell me back there," Revenant accuses, and she moves to shuffle further away. A bad idea - pain shoots up her wound and she hisses instinctively. Raven sees fangs.

"I wouldn't do that," she starts, "I just want you to sit down and listen."

Revenant looks on, a suspicious twinge building at the back of her lungs. Sensing that she wasn't going to budge, the woman deliberately steps back, and then sits in the seat. Her waking sense of panic begins to fade and rationality sets in.

"You're not a part of them."

"The people who shot you, I assume? No."

"Good," Revenant sighs, "I got out, then."

"Out of where?"

Revenant moves her hands to her shoulder. Her hood is gone, but she sees it on the table, and the shirt she currently wears isn't one of hers. It's a lot less worn. She grimaces, looks at the woman with her eyes narrowed, and then slides down the wall.

"Who are you?" Revenant croaks.

"Raven. We found you in the woods. You got shot."

Raven's voice is even, monotone - straight to the point despite the rapid subject change. Revenant notes that the woman either sees no point in lying, or that she's a good actor. She looks back to the wallpaper. No. _They_ wouldn't miss a chance to rub her failure in her face.

"I'm -" She doesn't know, actually. She'd just gotten so used to simply... not having a name of her own, only the one they'd given her. Blynx. But no. She won't take that with her. She resists the urge to hide her eyes and tries again.

"I'm Revenant."

Revenant eyes the woman, then lowers her head. She can't tell Raven. She's a stranger. Despite this, Revenant finds herself drifting again. Perhaps she's used up a little more energy than she'd originally thought. She lets herself slide further down the wall, lying on her side, and then the world fades away.

 **»»-¤-««**

Why didn't he think of that before?

"Alright, I think I can reason with her," Cyborg says, stepping forward.

"After all of that?" Robin whips out his staff to his hand, extending it - he looks at Cyborg quizzically, eyes darting to and from the alien.

"I got it, Rob." Cyborg fixes Robin with a determined look.

Robin starts objecting, "She's-"

"I've _got it._ She's scared, bro."

Even Robin looks a little incredulous at that. "Did he hit his head?" Beast Boy mutters. There's a crack in his voice. Cyborg shakes his head and heaves the bus out of the way, drawing the alien's attention.

Robin clenches his hands around his staff and Beast Boy hunches over. In the next moment, Beast Boy is a mass of fur and claws. The tiger hunkers closer to the concrete, growling as his tail swishes back and forth. There's still a phantom pain in Cyborg's chest, as if he should be expecting a bruise to form, but he knows it's all mental - everything under the site of impact is titanium and paint. _Battery charge at 82%. Systems undamaged._

The alien halts her barrage, falling to her knees. Cyborg sees the undercurrent of desperation behind her angry expression, dancing in her eyes and hiding behind the metal covering her arms, and he tries to place himself into her much smaller shoes.

Metaphorically, of course, considering his feet are four times bigger.

The restraints don't look like Earth technology, and they're not quite power inhibitors, considering she can still use those energy blasts. They're more like a cover... a muzzle. She's escaped from somewhere and landed in an unfamiliar planet. She might not know anyone here. Of course she'd be scared. She didn't attack the civilians - she let them flee.

She breathes in, then flares out her elbows, staring him down. Her eyes light back up with the green energy, and behind Cyborg, Beast Boy presses his ears to the back of his head. Robin readjusts his staff, readying it as he prepares himself.

Cyborg mutters, "Here we go."

The alien's fierce look intensifies as Cyborg steps closer. Breathing shallow and teeth bared, she narrows her eyes, pointing her hands at him. He places both of his arms up in return. This time, there's no second barrage of light, but she steps closer, a shout booming at the back of her throat.

Cyborg is overcome with an incredible need to comfort her, and in the next moment he finds himself holding her in a warm hug. Starfire finds herself clinging back to him the best she can. The manacles around her wrists make it difficult.

"It's okay, you're safe."

The girl lets out a breath, then brings her cheek to Cyborg's. Skin contact. There's a fuzz between them, and Starfire's mind opens, accepting a plethora of new words and grammar rules. Words that didn't exist previously fill her mind and finally, _finally_ , she can understand what everyone is saying past the rudimentary language barrier.

"Thank... you?" She tries.

"You speak English?" Cyborg answers, surprised.

"You helped me learn - I learn through touching skin," Starfire breathes, "Power of my people."

She's free, she's free now.

 **»»-¤-««**

It doesn't take long to get back to the apartment, but the few minutes it takes to walk there gives them time to introduce themselves by name. Starfire floats about a foot in the air, animated but still awkward in the face of the huge misunderstanding. Her smiles are too wide and she very nearly squeaks when Cyborg pats her shoulder.

She explains why she's at Earth. She was a... prize. Given away in order to guarantee the planet's continued existence. She was about to be transferred elsewhere in the galaxy when she escaped, and fortunately, she'd made it to Earth. Her English is still faltering, but considering she's learned it less than half an hour ago, none of them have the heart to make fun of her when she messes up her grammar.

Soon, they cut through one of the alley ways, and the apartment comes into view. A few steps ahead, Beast Boy breaks into a run, whooping - the next moment, he's gone, and there's a green bird flying away in his place, directly through one of the open windows.

The building they enter isn't like anything back on Tameran. The ceilings are lower, the floors are covered in strange fuzz - carpets, Robin points out when she asks him - and they crowd into a moving box.

Starfire wrinkles her nose. "An escape pod? But we have just arrived here."

Robin shakes his head, smiling, "It's an elevator. It takes you to the right floor."

"Beast Boy's not a fan of these, so he went ahead," Cyborg says, pressing one of the buttons. The door closes, and odd music begins as they ascend upwards. From the lack of reaction the two boys are expressing, Starfire doesn't let it get to her either, but she smoothes down her skirt with practiced preparation.

"Oh." Starfire begins, but she's cut off as the doors open. The corridor they exit on has two doors, and Robin and Cyborg head towards the one on the left.

It's a good couple minutes before she says anything else, and by then they've converged in the main room of the apartment. She doesn't understand a lot of the terms they're interchanging, though. Starfire turns her head as a pale girl emerges from one of the other rooms. She doesn't say anything, just goes towards the kitchen, but Robin looks up.

"Everything alright in there, Raven?"

Raven nods, flicking on the kettle with one hand and moving to retrieve a cup with the other.

"She was awake for a little while," Raven murmurs, then starts preparing her tea, "But she fell asleep again. She's tired, understandably."

"Did you get any information from her?"

"Not a lot. Her name is Revenant and she escaped from somewhere."

Robin makes a thoughtful noise, eyes narrowing.

"Best we keep an eye on her then. She might have people after her."

"Likely." The kettle pops as it finishes boiling, and Raven reaches towards it. She looks over her shoulder, to the new arrival. "And who is this?"

"I am Starfire. It is nice to meet you, friend!"

Raven freezes. The cup nearly overflows with boiling water, but she composes herself just in time to finish.

"I'm not your friend."

Tense silence. Raven quickly excuses herself back to a separate room, and Starfire frowns. Not that she expects it to be instant, but she isn't very familiar with such a metaphorical emotional wall.

"Don't take it personally. She's not very social," Cyborg says, flicking between channels. His feet are grounded in the carpet. The television switches from animals to cooking meat. Beast Boy makes a disgusted noise, crossing his arms.

"I bring you... apologies," Starfire begins, wringing her hands, "For this."

Cyborg turns towards the redhead, watching how she curls up with her knees tucking to her chest.

"No one was harmed, that's what matters," Cyborg replies, smiling encouragingly.

Starfire takes a deep breath and manages a small smile. "Thank you for reminding me."

Starfire doesn't know where to look after that, so she settles for staring at the carpet. She traces a finger across the lined pattern. It's rather rough, a little similar to the wool of her old pet zarnic, Crauck. She brushes her palm against it next. Very nice texture, indeed.

"On my world, only my k'norfka has shown me such kindness."

"K'norfka? Like a... parent?" Beast Boy assumes, kicking his legs when he slides down next to her. Unlike Raven and Robin, the boy can't stay still for a second - he taps a pattern on his knee, though he pays rapt attention. Leaning in, eyes wide.

She clicks her tongue once, thinking, and then utters, "Yes, near."

 **»»-¤-««**

Revenant falls asleep at some point, but she can't really remember that fact. She curls up in the warmth, under the blanket... this is the most comfortable she's even been, at least in her memory.

She wakes up to darkness and her hair's a mess, pooling down the pillow. Longer than it was before - she'd need to cut it again.

Hesitating for a minute, Revenant pushes herself up and heads for the door. With another thought, she pushes the switch near the door frame, and the light turns off with it. She hesitates before opening it, ears perking up. She can hear noises, voices. She doesn't recognise any of them until Raven speaks, and her shoulders lower. There was at least one familiar person nearby, then.

After a breath, she turns the handle and enters, clicking the door shut behind her. The walk through the hallway was silent, her feet sinking into the carpet, and now she could hear them even clearer. Methodically, she steps forward. One step. Two step. Nothing's stopping her or holding her back. It's real.

"Oh good, you're awake," a voice says to her left; she turns and sees what she recognizes as the Boy Wonder. Traffic Light outfit, spiky hair, domino mask.

He's a lot shorter in person.

She blinks once, twice. Huh, he's real too. Questioning everything because- is this real? Is it fake? It's a hard distinction. She's only seen brief images of him, mentioned by name down... there. Between the dripping and the fighting and the screams, hushed whispers of a hero.

Rumours of him coming away from Gotham. The net of superheroes was widening, and soon, soon they'd all be saved. She supposes that's why she'd gravitated down here in the end, though. She couldn't wait for what might have been entirely fabricated.

And then she realizes that she should probably reply before he notices she's just staring, so she does. Revenant tries to smile, but the expression comes out too flat for her own tastes, so she stops. Instead, she looks at her palms.

"I never said thank you, so," Revenant swallows, "Thank you."

She doesn't look up. She refuses to look up. She stares at her hands and wills them to obey her. "For rescuing me, I mean."

"You don't need to thank us. It's what we do."

 **»»-¤-««**

 **A/N** : Formatting is awful carrying over to fanfiction dot net, sorry. You can blame this on how dated it is. I've lost patience with how dated this site is, which is likely to bring this down a tad, but eh. I'm xsjb on archive of our own, by the way. Just search for the same fanfiction title name.


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